


Godfather

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, young!Emma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d never deny being a bastard, but his code was a strict one and Emma knew not to lie, steal, or break deals.  She might break other people’s rules but never his.  AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godfather

**Author's Note:**

> Someone made a joke about Rumpelstiltskin knowing Emma's name before she was born, and ‘practically being her godfather.’ This idea has been brewing ever since. The basic idea is that most of canon, including Gold not remembering who he really is, stays the same. The difference is that Gold woke up with the memories of being the godfather to his best friend’s daughter, said friend having died, leaving him to raise Emma. He doesn’t know that MM and David (who isn’t in a coma) are really Emma’s parents.
> 
> Will probably be ficlets in the same verse, not a plotted fic.

Emma was six when he bought the sword. She’d been making toy swords for months, out of legos or cardboard or sticks from the back garden with duct tape wrapped around the base for a mock hilt. His gift, though, was not a toy. It wasn't foam or even wood. The edges were not sharp and it was shortened in proportion to her height but in all other respects it was everything a real sword should be.

“Thank you, Goff.” Hugs from Emma were rather like tackles; over quickly but fierce while they lasted. Her emotions were always close to the surface and patience was considered a virtue only for things she deemed important enough. Even his title of ‘Godfather’ had been shortened to ‘Goff.’ He didn’t protest, and the townspeople have learned that it was folly to snigger when they hear the name. He admired her fire, even if it meant he’d picked her up from school twice already this year, for fighting. High on the list of things that Emma has no patience for was bullies. 

Even at six her views of right and wrong were highly developed. Some might call that ironic, considering that she was being raised by the man most of the town feared. He’d never deny being a bastard, but his code was a strict one and Emma knew not to lie, steal, or break deals. She might break other people’s rules but never his.

“Now I can fight dragons, right Goff? Just like in the movie we watched last night.” She clutched the sword tightly, boundless energy making her almost shake with the need to run outside and hack at things. He’d need to make sure she understood not to swing the thing inside at all; there were too many things easily broken. She was too focused on other things right now, though, to focus on listening to him.

“It’s a fine start, dearie, but you have to be a knight before you go questing for dragons.”

“Can you teach me to be knight, like you taught me to swim?” She looked up at him expectantly, and he barely restrained himself from making a face. With the river only a few blocks from his shop he had decided it prudent for her to learn to swim, but spending that much time wet and cold had hardly been a pleasant experience.

“I’m afraid I’m a little rusty with my swordplay.” He let out a huff of a laugh, imagining himself trying to weld both cane and sword at the same time; at least the water had lent him buoyancy during their swim lessons. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Nolan. He takes a few students, though none as young as you. He’ll try you out, but you have to prove yourself mature enough to listen and follow his instructions. Do you think you can do that?”

“I can. I really can.” In her excitement she hugged him again, forgetting that she held the sword now. He’d have a bruise on the side of his leg come morning, but his goddaughter’s bright face was worth the dull pain.

“I’m gonna be a real live knight. After Mr. Nolan learns me…”

“Teaches you,” he corrected, not one to let her get away with sloppy grammar.

“After he teaches me I’m gonna beat all the bigger kids and then I’m going to find a dragon and beat it too.” Her expression was such fierce determination that he almost believed she could have been a knight, if they lived in a time and place other than small town America.

“Your lessons start on Monday after school, pet. Until then you’re only to use the sword in the back garden. You can attack the junipers all you like, but don’t let me catch you abusing my rose bushes.” He spent far too much time babying the things to get them to grow in the rocky Maine soil to risk them. The junipers, nasty weeks that masqueraded as bushes, were on the opposite side of the garden.

“I’ll protect the roses from the dragons,” Emma promised as she ran out the back door, the long hair he refused to let her cut flying behind her as she jumped the last two steps. 

He leaned against the doorframe to watch her spin, the sword whistling through the air. He suspected that the dragon she’d been talking about the last few months was one that lived under her bed; she refused to get out from under her covers once the light was off, not that she’d admit to any fear. She was brave, his Emma, in a way he’d never been. It was his hope that the sword, as well as the lessons, helped her cope with whatever childish fears lurked in the shadows, either in her room or her mind. If it didn’t work he’d try something else, and something else after that. Childhood should be a time free of fear, and she’d lost her parents already. That was enough suffering for any girl.


End file.
